It's Just Show Biz
by Lady Whiskers
Summary: The Moulin Rouge! Full of love, girls and demanding men. But it closes down after it's main courtesan dies. Satine. Christian finishes writing his story but has an interesting guest. After being offered a job in the richer side of Paris, how will Christian cope? Will the memory of Satine come back to haunt him, or will he get along with life's demands? Christian/OC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The Moulin Rouge! Full of love, girls and demanding men. But it closes down after it's main courtesan dies. ****_Satine. _****Christian finishes writing his story but has a interesting guest. Hi! I now, my name is Star Wars, but if you've seen both movies, (which I'm guessing you have) you now one of the actors are in both. ;) Hehehe, so here it is. Oh! And don't forget to drop a review. I won't bite. :)**

__It's Just Show Biz

_A love that would live forever. The end._

I ripped out the last paper and started to cry. I was finished and Satine was dead. How could I have let this happen? I begged God just to take me and stop it all. I stood up from my desk and peered at the wall filled with the story of Satine and the Moulin Rouge. Pages and pages of it. I walked over to the wall and pinned the last one on.

_All you need is love…_

How stupid those words sounded now to me. Suddenly, I felt the anger swirling inside of me. Wanting to come out. That's when I lost it. The scream came from my innards. It ripped through my lungs and out my mouth. I kicked the wall and fell to the floor. _Why? _I asked myself. _Why'd she have to die? Now what the hell was I going to do? Waste my life away here? Continue drinking and become an alcoholic? Oh… That's where I'm heading._

I put my head down into my hands and started to cry. That's when there came a knock at the door. At first I didn't register it because I was lost so far into misery. But when it came louder, I noticed and stuck my head up.

"Go away!" I groaned.

The knock came louder. I tried ignoring it, but it whoever it was, was pretty persistent. Angered, I got up from my spot on the floor and stormed over to the door. The knocking started knocking into my brain and it was getting quite annoying. "Alright. Yes, I'm coming!"

I wrapped my white knuckles around the handle and twisted it, ready to smack whoever it was that had just disturbed me.

But thankfully, the knocking had stopped, doing a great service to my head. I slowly twisted the handle further and opened it. "Look! I don't want..." I stopped dead in my tracks. I didn't expect this.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Hello. Ah...Is this the residents of Monsieur Christian, the greatest Bohemian Writer of the 19th century?"

A young woman stood there. Her red hair was curly and short, but reminded me of Satine's. _Oh... How I miss her!_

"Is it?" her voice knocked my out of my reverie. Which it seemed to be doing a lot lately. I looked back up at her and frowned.

"Wait! Did you just say 'Greatest Bohemian Writer of the 19th century'?"

She nodded. "Yes. I'm sure I did." she looks back down at a paper that she held in her hand, then back to me. "According to this, it should be."

"I'm...I'm Christian. But I'm no great writer!"

She looked surprised. "Oh... I must disagree! I absolutely loved your show! It was so.. So... Heart touching."

Her compliment brought a smile to my lips. Probably for the first smile in ages.

"Why…Thank you." I smiled.

"Oh…No! Monsieur Christian, I loved the play!"

"Really?"

"Wee! And it wrenched my heart out to learn that the main role had died after it was first performed. I never saw that one. I only saw the other red heads perform it." she put her head down and shook it.

I was almost brought to tears by the mention of Satine. I guess she saw my sudden turn of emotion and cut in.

"Ah…. Monsieur, my name is Marionette Pelvaroe."

No response from me.

"Monsieur Christian?"

I looked up at her and wiped a tear away from my eye.

"Ah…Sorry, Miss Pelvaroe." I looked back at my small room, then back to Marionette.

"Ah…Would you like to come in?"

She smiled in response, replacing the look of sorry.

"Oh…Wee s'il vous plaît, Monsieur Christian." She walked past me and straight into the room.

"Ah…Christian."

She looked back at me. "Wee. Monsieur Christian." she turned back around, trying to find a seat in my mess.

"No…Just Christi….Oh, never mind." I mumbled.

She looked back at me and asked, "Pardonnez-moi, I didn't hear that."

"No. It doesn't matter. Ah…You want some coffee?"

"Oh wee, s'il vous plaît." She smiled. I nodded and walked off to the kitchen. She followed me into the kitchen, not knowing where to sit. So she just sat at the table, instead.

I grabbed two cups and pulled the kettle off the fire. Chucking nearly three spoonfuls of coffee into my cup and the same in the other one, I poured the water and milk in. I had come to rely heavily on this stuff after Satine's death. Also sedatives, to slow down the pain and aching. I mixed it all together and chucked the spoon back into the sink. I picked the cups up and turned back to Marionette. Passing her the coffee, I sat back down. She smiled and lipped, "Merci."

I nodded in reply. I watched her soft, red lips touch the cup and sip the coffee. Immediately, she choked and gulped it down. She put down the coffee and turned to me with a disgusted look.

"Monsieur Christian! How strong do you like your coffee?!"

I got up and picked up her cup. "I'm sorry. I'll go get you a new one."

Before she could reply, I turned around and walked back to the bench. I chucked the coffee down the sink and put in _one_ spoonful of coffee this time into the cup.

Marionette smiled behind my back. I didn't notice.

She was being reasonably quite. Actually, she hadn't said anything about why she was here, she had just been smothering me in compliments left, right and center.

'Why are you here?" I asked her. She seemed to stop and consider the answer she'd give me.

"I..." She waited until I had faced her.

"Monsieur Christian."

"Christian." I tried again.

"Ah...Christian. I come from Secura Theater. On the other side of Paris. The more snobby side. Myself and my co-stars are looking for a new writer. The ones we have looked over are good, but not as good as you. We need a writer who has spirit. Truth. Beauty. Freedom."

"_Love_." I finished in a whisper. Marionette nodded.

"Would you be interested?" She asked me. I looked up at her with an astonished look on her face.

"What? Pardon?"

"Would you be interested in the job? We need a writer who can express his feelings into the play, non? I came looking for the writer of your play. It had been written off as belonging to Harold Zidler. I traced him back to the Moulin Rouge. He explained to me that he didn't own it, that you did. He reluctantly gave me your address and I was surprised to find you lived here."

"Well...Yes." I mumbled, allowing her to continue.

"Look. Monsieur. We are offering you a job as a writer. To start over. Come to Paris with me and you will become famous. Our theater perform our play's in front of the highest Bohemians with money left, right and centre."

I rose out of my chair in refusal. I wasn't prepared to leave. _Not to leave Satine!_ I scolded myself.

"I'm sorry, Miss Pelvaroe. But I shall not be coming to Paris with you."

She seemed upset and got up out of her seat, coming closer. "Why not?"

"I just can't!" I snapped at her. She was taken aback by my sudden outburst and there was a silent moment between us. I looked out the window to the Moulin Rouge and Marionette's gaze settled onto me.

"You lost someone, didn't you." She mumbled from behind me. I turned to her and gave her a stare that would have frozen have the city.

"Yes." I mumbled. She nodded and let her gaze settle on the windmill out the window. Her face was pale and pretty, her red fringe falling over the side of her face, and the rest of her hair under her hat.

She looked slightly upset and opened her mouth slightly as a small tear made it's way down her cheek.

"It hurts to loose someone. Especially someone you love. But that is what makes us strong in the end. The ability to bounce back from the horrors. To make peace with it. In the words of the great 18th century writer, Henry Betroth, '_It's not the love that makes you strong, but what it does to make us fight back.'_" She smiled sadly. She blinked away the tears, and looked back at me.

_She must have lost someone, too. _I reflected.

"Well Monsieur Christian? What do you think? Will you come to Paris with moi?"

"Oh.. I don't know. I don't want to leave, really. Too much pain-"

"And suffering?" she asked lightly.

I was confused. "Why do you keep finishing what I'm about to say?"

"I- Look. If you'd like to come, get yourself cleaned up. Hurry up and pack. My carriage is waiting outside for us." And with that, she turned around and headed for the door.

I watched as she left me to myself. I had literally just been told that I was going to Paris. So suddenly, I found myself running upstairs to Toulouse.

I swung open the door and yelled, "I'm going to Paris!" with a big smile on my face. One of the biggest I had smiled in ages.

Suddenly, a small dwarf came around the corner and smiled, "Well if it isn't Christian! Come to talk to me...Wait! You're smiling?!" He asked confused and with a lisp.

I put my hand up to my face and felt my mouth, unsure. Yes. I guess I was.

"Christian! You're smiling!" He ran over and hugged me. I laughed and he got off.

"Wait! And you're going to Paris?"

"Yes. That's right!" I smiled and shook him excitedly.

"But what for, my friend?! I thought no one could get you to come out of your shell."

"I've been promised a job in Paris with a big time theater. Isn't this just great?!" I shouted at him. He nodded in return.

But he then noticed my change in expression. My thoughts turned to Satine. The beautiful, young, red haired girl I had fallen in love with. How she danced, laughed, sung, _loved._

"Christian...Christian...CHRISTIAN!" Toulouse yelled at me.

"Huh? Oh...Sorry."

"Satine?"

"Yes. I actually, I don't want to go to Paris."

Suddenly, Toulouse slapped me straight across the face. "Are you mad, Monsieur? You must go! You have no life here! Leave, while you still can!"

"Fine. But only if you come with me!"

"I can't Christian. You need to flee."

"No, Toulouse. You're coming with me!"

"But why?"

"Because you need to get out of this place, too, you know."

"Really?"

"Ah...No! I just said that for fun."

"Really?" He asked, looking dumbfounded. I rolled my eyes.

"No! I was being sarcastic! No come on! Pack, already!"

"Alright, Christian." He agreed slowly, before going to gather his things.

I ran back down the stairs and into my bedroom, where I pulled out my trunk and stuffed my type writer into it. Then my two pairs of pants, shirts, socks and suspenders. I combed my hair down, and was about to get dressed, when I looked at the mop of hair I was wearing as a beard and frowned. _Dammit! _I thought.

I picked up the shaver blade and started to shave it off. After I was finished, which wasn't reasonably long at all, I got dressed rapidly into my best suit with the hat, and gathered my trunk and stepped out through the door. Toulouse was nowhere in sight. I then heard a familiar voice from down the stairway.

"Oh, Monsieur Christian!" He mocked. "Come on, now. We don't want to be late, now do we?"

For a dwarf, he was pretty speedy. I complimented him on that. I felt my face and I realised, I felt cleaner. I literally jumped down the stairs, but as I reached the bottom step, I swear I heard someone giggle at me from behind. I swung around and looked for however it was. No one was in sight. The laugh had been light and delicious. A familiar one.

_Satine!_ I thought.

"Monsieur! Come on!" Toulouse knocked me from my search and I sprang after him.

I stepped outside into the light, and covered my face. It was brighter than I had remembered. I guess even in the underworld of Paris, even in the brothels, light seeped in. Hope. "Monsieur Christian! Hurry, s'il vous plait."

I swung around to see Marionette standing by her carriage. I quick stepped over and her driver took my bags. Marionette looked down at Toulouse who was standing next to me. "Who is this?" She asked, with a slight look of disgust on her face. I frowned and looked down at Toulouse, too, who hadn't seemed to notice Marionette's look.

"Madame, I am Toulouse Lautrec. Your humble servant!" He bows and then prostrates again.

Marionette looks at me, raising an eyebrow and I explain. "He's comin with me to Paris. My best friend."

She sees my look, and decides to nod. "Okay, but there is non room in the carriage. So he will have to sit out with the driver. Désolé."

Toulouse smiled, and replied. "Dear madam, I do not care. I would very likely jump off the carriage to be near you than stay behind."

The driver gathered me and Toulouse's bags and chucked them on top of the carriage. Toulouse was helped up on front as I stepped into the carriage behind Marionette. I closed the door behind me, and the carriage took off. So there I sat, on my way to the richer side of Paris, ready to start a new job.

I looked out my window and Marionette smiled at me. "Monsieur. Have you ever been to the richer side before?" she asked.

I looked at her and realised, _no. _I had never been there. I had gotten to wrapped up in the Moulin Rouge and _Satine. _

"No..." I answered quietly.

There was another period of silence between us, until she asked, "How old are you?"

_Well... That was awkward. _I thought as I stared at her.

"Um...twenty one, turning twenty two in six months."

She nodded. "Hm... My sister was that age when she started."

"Started what?"

"Show Biz, of course! Mama always dreamed for us to go into that!"

"So.. How old were you, when you started Show Biz?" I asked her, smiling.

"Sixteen. In the nightclubs near the Moulin Rouge, actually. It was the only place I could find a job, until they realised I deserved a lot more. I was moved onto proper performing."

"I had a friend who dreamed of becoming a proper actress, too. But she was never able to. " I sighed sadly. Marionette looked at me and asked, "Why?"

I looked up and hesitated. "Um... She died. In my arms." I was surprised I was able to keep the tears in that time. I was sure that I was done for, that time.

"She must have been special then. I'm so sorry."

"I loved her." I whimpered.

"It hurts to loose someone you love." She finished. We continued our trip to the theatre in pretty much silence.

**A/N: **  
**I lurve reviews! So don't feel afraid to drop one. **


	2. You Fainted

**A/N: Yeah! I got a review! Which was unexpected... ANYWAYS! I thank you, _Guest! _*Hug* I was really starting to doubt whether-or-not I'd actually get one. But I did! And if you'd like to see your name up here too, then don't forget to drop a review. I love feedback! So... Here's the next chapter! **

It's Just Show Biz

Chapter 2: You Fainted

The cabin door opened and I motioned for Marionette to step out before me. She smiled with delight as she did. I picked up my hat and stepped out. _Oh my!_ Was the instinctive thought that came to my mind when I saw what lay before me.

The buildings towered over me and I gasped, seeing the beautiful colours of the night playing on the dock The sound of laughter and play hit me and I smiled. Even though these were the richer Bohemians, they still knew how to throw a good party. The cold air was brushed off by a smile from Marionette's tender face. I swung around from facing the theatre and looked over to the Eiffel Tower that stood behind me. It stood tall and proud, representing the French in absolutely every way.

"Isn't it just beautiful, Monsieur?" Marionette broke my gaze.

"Oh, Yes!" I replied with a broad smile.

But, suddenly, I felt something. Something sad and heartbroken. It felt as though someone had touched my heart with a cold finger and had left a scare with their fingernail. The smile dropped from my face and my knees became weak. I toppled over and fell side first to the floor. Marionette and Toulouse ran up to me as my eyesight started to blur until it went totally, and everything went dark.

ooOoo

"Christian..."

The fear and horror was decipherable across my face as I held her dead body close to me.

"SATNE!" I cried hysterically. "SAAATIIINNNEEEE!" Still nothing.

"Christian..." A kind voice came. I looked up, hoping with all my heart that it had been Satine who had called me, but no. It hadn't. She was still dead.

"Christian..." It whispered again. A light, breathy voice that sent a shiver up my spine.

"Wake up..."

Suddenly, I opened my eyes to see a beautiful, tender face staring down at me. It was Marionette, but for some reason, my body refused to move. I opened my mouth to speak, but Marionette put a finger to my lips and whispered, "_Shhhhh..._Everything will be fine. You just had a nasty fall. _Shhh..." _She stroked the hair off my face and it felt comforting to have her touch me.

"Do you remember what happened. You just seemed to become weak and keel over, Monsieur."

I tried to do so, but no. Nothing came. All I could remember was stepping out of the carriage with her and then suddenly falling over.  
"I..." I started, but I couldn't. My head was still spinning and I just wanted to rest. I shook my head and Marionette nodded hers, understanding.

She swung her body around to a bowl and picked up a rag infused with warm water, ringed it out, then swung back around. Lightly, she dabbed it on my forehead as I closed my eyes, tired.

"But it's good to have you back, Monsieur." She whispered as she leaned over, and kissed my temple.

Suddenly, before I could react, the door swung open and someone ran in.

"Marionette, my sweet, you have returned!"

Marionette swung her body around, planting her feet apart, around my legs, resting hers against mine. She smiled to the visitor in the doorway, and hoped off me. "Good evening, Penelope. Yes, I'm back."

"Oh... Merci!" And with that, I watched as the the lady engulfed Marionette in a hug.

As that was going on, I attempted to sit up. But as I did, I heard Penelope ask,

"So... Is this the writer everyone is talking about?" I looked up as Marionette nodded her head.

"I didn't know news would travel that fast, Penelope."

"Oh... It does." Penelope looked back down to me and smiled with delight. She would have only probably had be forty eight, but she looked to be somewhere in her late sixties. And with the extra make-up and ruby red lipstick on, she looked to be a ghost.

"Especially when a handsome young man is involved in it, my dear Marionette."

I stopped at that last comment, and looked straight at Penelope and try to smile my thanks. But it came out all wrong. But luckily, Penelope just smiled at me.

"You look hungry, my dear. I'll send up Cherie with something for you to eat, Monsieur." She smiled, then looked back at Marionette and smiled at her.

"It is SO good to have you back, my dear. Bye for now." And she swung around and walked out.

Marionette waited until she had gone, then looked at me. "You really are important to us, Monsieur. See? Word travels fast, no?"

I nodded in reply, then attempted to stand up. Marionette smiled at me, then walked to the door.

"Come, Monsieur. Monsieur Toulouse is already in his room. I shall take you to yours."

I followed her out, still confused and disorientated from before. The corridors were long and winding.

"Monsieur Christian. Before. When you said you lost someone, who was it?" She asked, looking down at the ground.

"Madame Satine. The Sparkling-"

"Diamond of the Moulin Rouge. Yes. I knew her." Marionette grumbled. I was almost about ready to stop and give her word, if it wasn't for her stopping before me.

She gestured to the door and twisted the door knob, revealing the beautiful, spaced out room inside.

"Oh my!"

Overwhelmed, I strolled in, mouth gaping into a smile. From where I stood, I looked over the city of Paris and the beautiful, shimmering water. A King sized bed was next to the wall that was a literal window. Big, thick, red curtains were positioned on both side of the glass pane, ready to be pulled over when the user wanted privacy or to block out the cold. In the other compartment would be my change room, and bathroom.

Breakfast will be at eight o'clock sharp, so don't be late. And dinner shall arrive soon. I hope everything is to your liking Monsieur?"

I swung around to her and nodded brightly. "Oh yes, Miss Pelvaroe! This is wonderful!"

"Good." She smiled. "Good night, Christian." She said, then turned around and walked out, closing the door behind her.

With a content smile, I walk over to my bed and sit down at it. Usually, on Satine's birthday, I'd like to stay in. Not go any where. But there I was. Sitting alone in my new bedroom, right outside the Eiffel Tower.

I collapsed backwards onto my bed, and closed my eyes. I could hear the sound of laughing and drinking Bohemians from outside, in the streets. _Oh... How I wish Satine was here to see this. _I thought sadly.

Suddenly, there came a tug at my sleeve. Startled, I opened my eyes, and sat up, staring at a young girl who was standing by me. I studied her closely. She was dressed in black, top to bottom. Black tights, slippers, skivvy and bowler hat. But her face, which was young and soft, was painted a pale white, with black strokes going across her eyes. The kind you'd see clowns decorated with. Even her cheeks had been blushed red with make-up. Her hair was tied up under her hat.

"How did you get in here?" I asked, still confused and started. Staying phlegmatic, she put down the tray of food, which I presumed she had brought for me, and started to stroll around the room, putting emotion into every step she took.

_She's a mime artist! _I realise. She stopped, then looked back at me.

"Yes, my dear. But why didn't you knock?" I asked, a small smile forming across my face.

She pulls a funny face, looking as though she was considering something. She made me laugh, stroking her chin as though she had an imaginary beard, and cocking her hip. She reminded me of someone, I just couldn't put my finger on it, though. After a while, she just shrugged.

"Oh well." I shrugged too, smiling. She nodded quickly, then smiled. Then I realised something.

"Honey. Your not talking." I say, giving her a look. She took a huge leap back, and then placed her hands on her hips. She pursed her lips together as if they were glued shut.

I smiled. "Oh, I get it! You're a mime artist!"

But she frowned, then started shaking her head furiously. "No!" She lipped. She pointed at her lips and started to shout at me. But she wasn't shouting. She wasn't making any noises at all. She was mouthing shouting. But that time, I got the idea. "You can't talk. Or... You just don't want to."

Quickly, she nodded, signalling I had it correct.

"Why not?" I asked, but I knew I wouldn't get any answer out of her. _Must have been something traumatising. _I think quickly.

The girl backed away pranced a quick dance, looking as though she was trying to change the subject. She pulled that hat off of her head, and took a big bow, causing her hat to touch the tip of the floor.

"Well, my dear. It was nice meeting you as well. Good bye." I smiled as she waved her goodbyes, and walked out, quietly closing the door behind her.

_Well... That was pleasant. _I think, walking away to my desk, sitting down in front of my tray of delicious smelling soup, bread, and a side of wine. I poured myself a glass and then dug into my food.

ooOoo

I fell onto my bed after finishing dinner, then turned my head to look out of the window. I had turned out the lights and the city and the water looked splendid from my apartment. Slowly, I drifted off to sleep, thinking about all the lovely plays I could write, now that my life had turned a corner. A good corner.

**A/N: So... What do you think so far? I thought of introducing another two characters (Penelope and the miming girl which you shall learn the name of later) and I have a few more on the way. But... I will only write a next chapter if I get at least ONE review. If not...Well. I'm not sure. BUT anyway. Hope you like it! Oh... And don't forget to leave a review. (Like I've already said! XD)****  
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